


Your Red Pointe Shoes Are Pretty But A Bit Too Soviet For A Competition (not that i can truly judge you)

by UnimpairedDreams



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Ballet, Ballet Terms, F/F, Russian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-15 03:02:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10548942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnimpairedDreams/pseuds/UnimpairedDreams
Summary: It’s not every day that you walk into your second home and find your beautiful new duet partner in red leather Pointe shoes, dancing to a beat only she can hear.





	1. blondie speaks russian and kisses my neck and in return i do a pirouette...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Remeny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remeny/gifts).



> I wrote a ballet fic. There are a lot of ballet terms (which i explain, about halfway through, and a lot of Russian which is explained in the end notes.

It’s not every day that you walk into your second home and find your beautiful new duet partner in red leather Pointe shoes, dancing to a beat only she can hear.

Trixie, or Tracy – as she was christened, wandered into RuPaul’s Academy of Dance. It was 6 in the morning but her key let her forget that as she unlocked the door, pulled back the curtains and headed into the changing rooms. The studio itself was a vast expanse of white linoleum and wooden Barres, special chalk mats for Pointe work and mirrors lining the walls, but from the reception you could get to five changing rooms, a room of dance supplies and a break room, all of which made the tuition fees enter the thousands for one semester.

Trixie had been attending on scholarship since an age when she could barely reach the Barre and had recently been placed in RuPaul’s very own All-star competition team, meaning she would soon enough need an All-star partner to compete with. As far as duets go, she’d produced some stunning ones, on Pointe, on flat and in tap shoes. She would even go as far as to say she was the best tap dancer in the Academy and to rival that she needed a duet partner that could reach up to her standard; hence why she found herself, in a dimly lit studio, with a red-clad Russian ballet student who’ s name was yet to be found. She was slim, tall and elegant. With the flexibility of a gymnast and poise of a ballerina, she looked as though she’d be hell to beat. Trixie let herself drink it up as she watched from the sidelines, her own pink Pointe shoes raring to dance. After a while of watching, Trixie could recognize a regular pattern, familiar to her and yet foreign in portrayal, she ran in and joined. Their blush skirts flowed around, leotards melding together in one white mass and shoes clashing in such a perfect way, you wouldn’t be able to take your eyes of the two if you tried. The chemistry was electric, Trixie catching on to every move the blonde made without a beat missed. Despite the fact Trixie was yet to call the red scare anything, she seemed to know everything about her. They’re hands sparked fires when they touched and the world seemed to lose something when the dance ended. Even though they’d been dancing in silence, everything seemed quieter. They stopped for a second to catch their breath before slowly untying their Pointe shoes and slipping their feet out onto the cold linoleum floor. Trixie readjusted her toe grips under her tights, the girl mimicking her movements until they’re both sat on the floor, enjoying each-others company. “So...” there was a pregnant pause as Trixie considered her phrasing,” I never got your name?” The red-clad bombshell hummed under her breath for a second “Ekaterina Petrovna Zamolodchikova,” Trixie looked at her with an expression that can only be considered as extreme confusion, “Katya, возлюбленная “. She smiled briefly and tied up her shoes once more. The clock read 6:50. “Vozlyublennaya?” Katya gave her another smile, pulling Trixie up and hugging her, burying her own face into the pink dancer’s hair. “Sweetheart”. 20 minutes later, they were both sat in the break room, munching on two weird Russian chocolate bars Katya seemingly brought out from nowhere. They heard the door go and in popped the head Dance coach, RuPaul. “Hey kitty girls, Trixie I see you’ve met Ekaterina,two time world ballet champion in the under 16 age category. She moved here 6 months ago to find a suitable duet partner.” Katya shot Trixie her winning smile and nodded at Ru. “да, um I was.. Ищу-looking for a good partner a также I found you возлюбленная.” Her thick Russian accent along with her broken English was a somewhat endearing mixture.

“Okay huntys, let’s get you two warmed up for Grade Class, I want you to perform some form of lyrical for the younger kids, perhaps after the Barre and jumps. Actually we need to work on arabesques before we touch the Barre.” She rambled on, unaware that Katya had zoned out. Trixie clapped and pulled Katya up off the floor, dragging her through the wooden doors and back into the cold studio.

“Okay, let’s get this planned out,” decided Trixie, haphazardly retying her shoes and chalking up the toes. “Mkay, so один два три arabesque – шесть pirouette.” Spoke Katya, seemingly in her natural habitat as she seamlessly choreographed the 30 second number, her Pointe shoes barely slipping over the greased floor.

‘Party girls don’t get hurt’

_Pirouette, drag, leap, drag_

‘Don’t feel anything when will I learn’

_Beat, beat, arabesque,_ al _fondue,_ al _fondue_

‘Push it down, Push it down’

_Attitude, jeté entrelacé_

There’s a pause in the music as they do a waltz-like movement, Katya’s head in the crook of her neck, giving Trixie goose bumps, she’s consciously blushing as the Russian kisses her neck before spinning away into a jeté battu, landing in cou-de-pied. Trixie joined her in a pas de coru, following in a grand jeté and finishing beside her in plié _(AN – id like to say that I am a ballet dancer, and I do know what I’m talking about. Jeté usually describes a jump; pas de usually describes a running step and basically just imagine fancy turns and jumps)._

They curtsey and split for a second, Trixie over at the Barre, working on demi-pointe and Katya tightening the front of her shoes. They both begin to speak at the same time. “No, you go first”, says Trixie, not taking her eyes off the slow and methodical rises she’s performing,” I am sorry Моя балерина. I should not have kissed your neck. пожалуйста forgive.’ Her sharp Russian accent fumbles with the words as she spurts out her broken English. “At least take me out for coffee next time Katya” quips back Trixie, catching her eye in the mirror and giving her a coy smile. “After practice? What do you think?” Katya looks pitifully at her pretty pink ballerina, her red lipstick worn away in places from the stress. Trixie thinks she might have some on her neck but she doesn’t check. “I have n- “Trixie cuts her off.”I will pay; it’s my treat Vos-lyublee-maya”. Katya’s laugh can be heard from outer space, and that’s one thing Trixie is sure of. “Возлюбленная”.


	2. barbie buys me coffee and lets me waltz with her in time to a russian soul song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She and Katya performed well, a classically trained Russian Ballet student and an American combination dancer with enough charisma to carry a boat to shore – they worked. They danced as if they hadn’t met only hours ago, chemistry good enough to spark a fire – and it wasn’t just Trixie that thought that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N – I would like to quickly state that whilst this seems exceptionally fast paced and stupid but this is based very vaguely on the true story of my friend and her girlfriend at my studio although neither one of them is Russian – one is Icelandic though)  
> As usual, there are Russian translations in the Notes

They quickly put on their jeans and hoodies (a pastel pink fleece for Trixie and a red and white Russia zip up for Katya) and walked the 7-minute stroll to the coffee shop - The Tea. The girls enjoyed the irony of the name and used it as a hang out which subsequently meant that you could often bump into people from dance in any situation, including but not limited to, after school, on a date, flirting with the 24 year old cashier, cheating on their boyfriend with the 24 year old cashier and last, but most certainly Trixie’s favourite, walking into the fight between Alyssa’s mother and father just before their divorce that even Alyssa hadn’t known about yet. As they enjoyed the pleasant stroll, stretching their aching legs in something that wasn’t a sweaty dance studio, Trixie recounted these tales to her Russian companion. She enjoyed the bright smile Katya gave her with her bright teeth and red lipstick.

Violet and Pearl met them there, an order of teas and a black coffee waiting on the table, they greeted them with a smile and a hug and Katya immediately ran to the coffee mumbling a quick thank you in Russian and downing it in one gulp, not even wincing at the bitter taste -"You drank that coffee like it was your last meal before being turned into a drunken and rotted Gila monster" recounted Trixie when they discussed it hours later. They struck up conversation fast, about Violet and Pearl’s relationship, about the chances of neon yellow cats and about the latest Pointe shoes in pastel blue. Eventually, they had to meander back over to the studio, picking up a new pair or red leather shoes for Katya on the way. Getting there, they stripped back down into the cream (going on grey) leotards and pale pink tights and black foot warmers and pale pink or red) Pointe shoes, toe wraps and all.

Prepping for the class was always such a natural thing for Trixie, the familiar bending of the new shoes, balancing at the bar and the new and yet oddly familiar chalking of her shoes next to the red ones she’d already grown so fond of. She and Katya performed well, a classically trained Russian Ballet student and an American combination dancer with enough charisma to carry a boat to shore – they worked. They danced as if they hadn’t met only hours ago, chemistry good enough to spark a fire – and it wasn’t just Trixie that thought that, Ru also complimented their duet calling his decision to bring Katya to the great US of A, good planning. Katya would have agreed but she spent the next few minutes lying on the floor cursing in Russian to the lord below.

The class ended and within minutes Katya had stripped down to her red thong and matching bra, Trixie was sure it had a soviet flag on one of the clasps but that was a conversation to delve into another time of day -  not in the sixth hour of dancing, not for one Saturday. The All stars changing room was oddly silent but for the puff of the Russians cigarette out of the small translucent window on the back wall. All of the other girls had left but for Trixie, Katya and Violet (of whom was waiting for her girlfriend to buy new practice pumps for acro class) and the lockers were all but full, waiting for the last gym bag to be shoved in and the last lock to be encoded and the light switch to be turned off. A picture of serene peace.

***

The next day, Trixie came in at the same time as usual, poured she the same amount of ice water into the same mug as usual and got ready almost precisely how she would usually get ready, but for one difference, she was getting ready beside Katya. _They_ poured ice water into mugs and _they_ got changed and put on their Pointe shoes and chalked and danced like motherfucking ballet dancing bitches.

“Возлюбленная, Моя балерина, come here Trix,” I have some choreo figured out and I want to try it” she paused and smiled to herself, barely showing her bright white teeth through her currently pale pink lips.” It takes inspiration from the um- waltz movement? I don’t know if tha-“She was once again cut off by a sympathetic smile, “That sounds amazing Kat”.

It didn’t take long for Katya to pull Trixie close and rest her head in the crook of her neck, counting in her native language, “один, Два, три,“ repeatedly and in time, the soothing rhythm helping Trixie relax into the music and as they pulled away and the song ended Trixie looked tentatively towards Katya’s lips. It wouldn’t be the first time she had kissed a girl; it wouldn’t be the 15th or the 27th – maybe the 28th. Katya caught her eyes and with one arm still precariously balanced on her hips, she pushed Trixie’s head up to meet hers and keeping her hand under her chin she kissed her. It wasn’t what Trixie had expected from Katya although she’d be the first to admit that there wasn’t a lot you could expect from Katya. She was a mystery wrapped in an enigma currently holding Trixie in her arms and despite the fact she’d known the girl for little more than 24 hours it was so perfect and felt so innocently correct.

 

The kiss was closed mouth and sweet and short but despite all this Trixie still felt cold when Katya pulled away and she could still taste smoke when Katya left – she said something about needing to water her tap shoes or polish her plants, Trixie was too caught up in the kiss that she couldn’t hear the world around her.

 

It had been 20 minutes by the time Trixie pulled her head out of her ass and go to find Katya, admittedly she wasn’t hard to find but with only 5 minutes left until the hoards of Little Ballet students came in, her partner needed to be close by. “Det-ka?” quivered Trixie’s voice as she

cautiously pushed the door to the rec room open and surveyed the scene. She tried again in English, “Baby?” A whisper came from the corner.

 

“Я испоганил, Я испоганил, Я испоганил,” through the 26 hours Trixie had know Katya, she had learnt a range of swear words but this phrasing was new and not quite clear enough to figure out as a newbie with no professional training in such a complex language with no English roots; in short it was hard to understand. “Kat, I don’t speak Russian and we literally have to teach in 5 minutes,” spoke Trixie, her voice fast as she bounced on her heels. “Возлюбленная, I fucked up and I am sorry”, she brushed past the pink-clad women as she stood up and walked into the adjacent stretch studio. Trixie followed suit. She grabbed the Russians arm and spun her around in time with the soft James Blunt music that was flowing through the small room, muffling the sounds of toddlers in the changing room. “Kat. We have to sort this out, I mean I enjoyed it and you enjoyed it and we have a dance to run through and some little babies to teach ballet to. We can’t get hung up on a kiss that we both enjoyed but we’re not talking about right now” Katya huffed and fell into her slow split whilst spinning herself around. She used Trixie’s arm to pull herself up and with another move she dragged her partner through the single door and into the vast studio, full with babbling toddlers. The sound of James Blunt, still poured through the door as it closed.   

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Возлюбленная (Vozlyublennaya)– Sweetheart  
> Да (da) – Yes  
> Ищу – Looking  
> A также – And  
> один - one  
> два - two  
> три - three  
> шесть -six  
> Моя балерина – my ballerina  
> Пожалуйста (pozhaluyst)- Please  
> детка (detka) - Baby  
> Я испоганил – I fucked up

**Author's Note:**

> -I hope you enjoyed -  
> Возлюбленная (Vozlyublennaya)– Sweetheart  
> Да (da) – Yes  
> Ищу – Looking  
> A также – And  
> один - one  
> два - two  
> три - three  
> шесть -six  
> Моя балерина – my ballerina  
> Пожалуйста (pozhaluyst)- Please


End file.
